


To Know

by ScreamingViking



Series: Sailing the Cosmos [7]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Crossover, F/M, First Time, Not Really That Explicit, PWP I guess?, except this is from chapter 64, how much more plot do you need, sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 23:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19344514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingViking/pseuds/ScreamingViking
Summary: "The dawn found them in each other’s arms, on two thin beds pushed together."An extension of the implied sex scene from the epilogue of N7SOLDIER. No longer implied.





	To Know

After a long day working in the rubble, Sephiroth walked back to his tent. His eyes stung from the concrete dust still drifting through the air. He pulled aside the flap and stepped inside, stretching out his shoulder as she went.

Shepard sat on her bed, taking off the plates of her armour. 

They hadn’t… talked about it. There wasn’t the time. The emergency relief tents could house multiple people and there were too few accommodations already. Sharing space was prudent.

She nodded at him. He nodded back.

He sat on his bed on the other side of the tent and began undoing the long braid of his hair. The Quarians stared at it sometimes. He got the feeling they didn’t have any hair under those helmets and weren’t used to seeing humans with so much of it.

They were pleasant enough to work with though, the Quarians. Just people, really, under their enviro-suits.

Shepard cut off a pained groan. He looked up. She held her arm up to get at the latches of her chest plate. The angle looked awkward, probably from strained back muscles.

She was going to leave. The second the Quarians arrived her time on Gaia had been on a timer. She hadn’t said anything. Neither had said anything.

Admiral Raan informed them that the _Normandy_ was on its way.

He stood and crossed the gap.

“Here,” he said, kneeling and reaching for the latches. She held her arm up for him, her expression pinched and her eyes hooded. He clicked the little latches open, running down her side as far as her hip.

“Thanks,” she murmured. She pulled the plate off of her and let it fall onto the bed, her posture relaxing without the stiff metal holding her up. Her eyes rose to him. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugged and stood. “Well enough.”

She stood too. They regarded each other, a foot’s distance between them. He remembered the feeling of her in his arms, after the confrontation in the planet’s core. Her strong arms around him, her soft skin under his hands, and curls of steam rising in the air around them.

She dragged a hand down her face.

“Can I touch you?” she asked, her voice ragged.

He blinked. “Yes.”

She hugged him. He felt something inside of him snap and he curled around her, winding his arms around her waist. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck and he rested his chin against her hair. Her arms trembled around his back, holding him close. Hot ragged breath brushed against his ear. A shiver travelled down his spine.

Shinra was gone. Genesis was dead. Angeal was in a medically induced coma. And Shepard was going to leave. It was all broken and gone and she was leaving. His arms tightened around her.

“Sephiroth?” she whispered.

He swallowed. “I can’t believe Shinra’s gone.” It was the easiest thing to give voice to.

She let out a hollow laugh. “I did promise.”

He curled his hand around the back of her head, digging his fingers into her hair.

“I pictured more of a hostile takeover. Assassination. Blackmail exchanged in backrooms.”

The breath on his neck trembled. “So did I,” she said quietly.

She pulled back and met his eye. He didn’t want to let go of her. Her eyes were focused and intent on him. Her hands were on his biceps and shoulders, her grip strong.

“This isn’t the end,” she said.

His eyes dropped.

“Hey.” She moved her head and caught his gaze again. He saw her throat move as she swallowed. She looked like she wanted to say something but closed her mouth and looked away.

She let out a ragged sigh and her eyes flicked up to meet his again, burning into him. “Can I kiss you?”

He covered her lips with his own.

She answered in kind, her arms wrapping around him again. She parted her lips and he groaned at the touch of her tongue. He angled his mouth against her, searching out that tongue again, the burning heat of it. She moulded herself against him, her lithe body pressing into his. Her under armour jumpsuit hugged her figure and he followed its hold on her, tracing the contours of her ribs, her waist, her hips, her bottom.

She wrapped a leg around his, climbing high up onto his hip. He sunk his fingers into her thigh, holding her close, manipulating the angle of her body against his. She moaned in his mouth and pulled back.

They stared each other down, panting and sharing air. Her eyes burned. Her lips were red and wet.

She nipped at his lips. He tried to chase her but she drew back. She sunk down to her knees. He felt his throat dry and his erection strain against its confines. She looked up at him, a question in her raised eyebrow as her strong fingers undid his belts. He didn’t stop her. She licked her lips. He held his breath.

He had never done this. Not with anyone. Had never wanted to.

She looked at him with bright, needy eyes. One hand wrapped around his thigh for support, the other reached into his trousers.

His eyes fluttered shut.

She breathed over him and he groaned. He buried his hand in her hair, holding it back for her. He found himself sitting on the bed and her head buried in his lap. She did something clever with her tongue and he had to stop himself from crying out.

She hummed. He felt like a string pulled too taut, and pulling tighter with every second. A spike of flustered irritation matched it, some mangled mix of pride and helplessness and desperate, irrefutable need. Of course, it would be Shepard. Cunning and strong and matching him at every turn. Shepard. His Shepard. His fingers twitched in her hair, a warning. She growled around him and the string pulled tighter still and snapped.

After what felt like a small eternity, he opened his eyes. He could feel his heart still thundering in his chest. She was on her feet, smiling gently at him. Warmth swelled in his chest, a desperate need for her beyond the physical sensations coursing through him. He hooked his hands around her knees and dragged her forward until she sat straddling him.

He kissed her with everything he had. His heart in his throat, he ran his hands over her body, caressing, kneading, needing…

She moaned and moved over him, her heat against him, bearing down on him. She leaned her head back and he kissed her throat. He bit and licked the tender, delicate flesh. He pulled down the zip of her jumpsuit and revelled in the heat of her skin. Relished every little twitch and moan she rewarded him with. He knew every pane of her body, had seen her in her entirety over the years. Knew every lean muscle and how they pulled, tensed, bled and healed again. Her eyes fluttered when his fingers pushed into her, her mouth open. He had never seen that before. He smirked.

She noticed, despite her glazed, hooded eyes, and smirked back at him.

“You can look as cocky as you want, so long as you keep that up,” she rasped.

He changed the angle and watched her expression hitch, fascinated. “Like that?”

Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

She trembled over him, gasping for breath. His body hardened. His Shepard, her voice hitching and failing under his touch.

He nipped at her ear, his free hand at the back of her neck.

“Can I penetrate you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she hissed, her eyes snapping to his. She lifted her hips, her eyes anchored to his.

He lost himself in her. The world seemed to spin away and all that mattered was the woman on top of him. Beautiful. Just as alien and set adrift in this world as him, some ethereal creature, unnamed and unknown, her hands on his face and her body joined with his. He knew her. She knew him.

“Can I finish inside you?” he ground out, his jaw clenched and his hands clamped over her hips.

“Yes,” she sobbed, repeating it over and over, then stuttering out his name. She threw her head back with a cry, shuddering with the force of her release. He followed her over the edge, holding her to him and burying his head in the crook of her neck.

The dawn found them in each other’s arms, on two thin beds pushed together. Sephiroth held her, feeling her chest rise and fall, and listening to the sounds of ships coming in to land.


End file.
